Blue
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Based on a Kink Meme prompt. Clint asks Phil to marry him, right out of the blue. Phil thinks he's joking, and responds accordingly. Heartbroken, Clint doesn't think he can ever face Phil again. Will Agent Coulson realise that Clint was being serious all along? Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.


"Blue"

It gave new meaning to the expression 'out of the blue'.

"Will you marry me?"

Phil Coulson looked at Clint Barton. They were standing in one of the Helicarrier's many corridors. Clint had darted in front of Phil, and then asked that question.

"What?"

"Will. You. Marry me?"

He couldn't help it. He burst out laughing; he laughed so hard that he had to lean against the wall, clutching his knees, and try to get a hold of himself. Yet every time he thought of those words, he began to laugh again. Soon, he heard Clint join in.

"Good one," Phil said between gasping breaths. "That's a… good one, Barton."

Clint continued to chuckle, shaking his head. He almost touched Phil's shoulder, but pulled his hand back at the last minute.

"Later, sir," he said, voice strangled with laughter. Phil tried to stifle his inappropriate giggles as he watched Clint walk unsteadily – for him – down the corridor. Then he retired to his office, and dropped into his chair.

Something like two months ago (seven weeks, five days, fourteen hours, and about twenty-five minutes, a little voice in his head corrected him) he and Clint had jumped in the sack post-mission. This time it was Phil on the front line, back in form after surgery, and Clint had been the back-up. The relief had led to them exorcising the sexual tension which had been there for years, never acted on. Not until that day.

It was literally that. They had sex together. No dates, no sleepovers (maybe three in total), no indication on Clint's part that he wanted anything more. They were fine with what they had. Nothing had ever been discussed about a potential relationship. Hell, they didn't even say anything whenever they fell into bed together. It was all silent, until they shouted each other's names.

Nothing ever needed to be said.

Now Clint's sense of humour was biting Phil in the ass. If there were no feelings involved, then yeah, he could've given the joke the response it deserved. But not this. Not when he wanted to have something more with Clint; the '`til death do you part' kind of more. The kind of more that was preceded by dates, lots of dates. Okay, even just one. Phil had known what he wanted for years now.

If only Clint was being serious, and hadn't just laughed along with him. It was a strange laugh, but…

But what if he _was _serious?

* * *

God bless Tony Stark for knowing how to make it easy to hide. Stark Tower – the secret Avengers headquarters – was always open if anyone in the team wanted to stay there. Clint usually lived on-base; but at the moment he was actively avoiding his boyfriend. Or should that be ex-boyfriend? And he couldn't avoid Phil on the Helicarrier. He knew all of Clint's favourite hiding spots there…

He'd screwed this up. Maybe Phil would still want to continue the way they'd been going these past couple of months? (Two months yesterday, he reminded himself.) At least that way Clint could pretend that his former handler loved him back.

Clint didn't have any basis for a normal relationship; he'd never been in one, and he didn't know anyone who was in one. His team-mates didn't even have normal sex lives, let alone normal love lives. Could've been because they weren't normal people. His parents had fought; his father had hit his mother, and from what Clint heard in later life, that wasn't good or normal. Then there was the immortal Thor with mortal Jane Foster, Tony Stark with his long line of former hook-ups, Bruce separated from his girlfriend by her maniac father. None of these were examples of 'normal' relationships, no matter how serious some of them were.

He tried. There was no point in arranging dates, because they were rarely free; any time that he had with Phil was spent in bed, because God, there were so many wasted years to catch up on. Now he'd been reminded that relationships weren't just broken with fists; pain could come just from words, or silence… or laughter.

"Fuck," he whispered, hitting the wall of his bedroom. Okay, so the bedroom wasn't the greatest of hiding places; but Clint was too tired to move far. There'd been some trouble uptown the day before, and he'd barely slept last night. Phil had tried to talk to him, and Clint… Clint just needed some time.

It's just… all these relationships gone wrong. Even marriages went wrong. But Clint loved Phil, wanted to marry him. Ever since same-sex marriage had been legalised in NYC, he'd been imagining them at the altar. It was just logical to try it. They'd practically been married for nearly ten years, according to Natasha; well, she said they acted like it, but same diff. If they could handle all that time together without anything going wrong between them (until now), wasn't it right they make it official? There was nothing more serious than that.

If only Phil was as serious about this as Clint was. Had been.

Screw time.

Clint could never face him again.

"Barton?"

He nearly fell off his bed. Phil was at his door, knocking loudly.

"What?"

"Barton? Clint, open this door! We have to talk!"

Here it comes, he thought, opening the door slowly.

"We can still have sex, if you want," Clint said.

"Clint—"

"It was a stupid mistake, and I'm sorry I screwed things up."

"You didn't—"

"Doesn't mean we can't sleep together, right? Just forget I said any—"

"Clint! Would you be quiet?" Clint shut his mouth, watching Phil with some alarm. "Great. I'm not here for sex."

"Y-you're not?"

"No. I won't be coming here for sex at all. Ever again."

"…Oh. Please, Phil, please just ignore what I said two… three days ago. I don't want this to end."

"It's not going to end. I simply want to have some semblance of waiting for the wedding night, now that there's actually going to be one."

It took half a minute to process, then for Clint to be able to get his jaw working again.

"Wedding night?"

"If you're still on for this engagement."

"…Why? You… you laughed."

"I thought you were joking. I didn't want you to think that I wanted what I do want when I didn't think you wanted it at all."

"That didn't make any sense."

"I never not make sense, Barton; but I sure as hell couldn't repeat that." Phil took his hands. "You were being serious, weren't you?"

"Yeah. I thought marriage was supposed to be the next, logical step. Isn't it?" Clint felt so unsure of himself again. "I didn't have any other relationships to compare this to. When you started to laugh…" He stepped backwards. "I thought you were laughing at the idea; at me."

"Oh, Clint…"

He allowed Phil to hold him tightly, running back over the last few days. Phil never laughed like that, if at all. So he was just protecting his heart? That… actually made a strange kind of sense. And now they were engaged.

They were engaged?

"We're engaged," he muttered into Phil's jacketed shoulder. Phil chuckled.

"We certainly are," he said. "Do you mind?"

"Hey, I asked you first. Of course I don't mind." He grinned, and huddled closer. "I don't mind at all."

* * *

**Prompt-y.**

**The first time I've written this pairing, so I'm feeling quite proud. I'm kind of beginning to pair Phil with… well, everyone. O_o. I hope he doesn't mind. He's becoming my Hermione. Oops.**

**I don't know whether I did credit to the prompt. This could probably be improved. I don't even!**


End file.
